'•"^r 


,-♦)»• 


W\f  jSoFFoiD  of  a  ]Oaf>ion. 


if       Y 


THE  SORROW   OF  A   NATION 


A     S  E  R  M  0  N 


PRKArilKI)    IN     IHI 


COLLEGE    CHAPEL    AT    PRINCETON,    N.    J 

SUNDAY.  SEPTEMBER  25,   1881, 


Rev.  JAMES    O.  MURRAY,  D.D 


r n  J  .V  c  [■:  to  s . 

l-Ul.Mtl)    IIV    r.    S.    KUUINSUX    Jl    CD. 

1881. 


COLLEGE  »)E  NEW  JEKS^EY, 

rRiNcinoN,  N.  J.,  Ski'T.  271I1,  1881. 

l»HOFESS()K  .lAAIES  (>.  MliniAV,   D.D.. 

Rev KR END  AND  Dkak  Sir  : 

At  the  close  of  iho  appro]Miate  and  impressive  services  in  the  College 
Chapel  on  Sunday  morning  last,  a  general  desire  was  expressed  both  by  members 
of  the  Faculty  and  by  students,  that  the  eloquent  discourse  on  our  national 
bereavement  to  which  we  had  listened  w  illi  so  much  interest  and  profit  should  be 
published.  Meetings  were  accordingly  held  on  Monday,  at  which  the  under- 
signed were  appointed  a  Committee  to  rec[uest  of  you  the  discourse  for  ]-)ubIica- 
tion  as  a  fitting  tribute  frtnii  the  Ct)llegc  to  the  memory  of  our  lamented  Presi- 
dent. 

JOHN  T.  DUFFIELD. 
HENRY  C.  CAMERON. 
EDWARD  B.  CRITCHL(JW, 
GEORGE  F.  GREENE, 
JAMES  S.  HARLAN, 
LAWRASON  RIGGS,  Ju.. 
ROBERT  K.  PRENTICE. 
J  NO.  Y.  BOYD, 
ALEX.  HARDCASTLE, 
F.  W.  SCOTT. 


COLLEGE  OF  NEW  JERSEY, 

Pkinckton,  Sei'tember  29,   1881. 
Gentlemen  of   ihe  Committee: — 

It  seems  not  unfitting  that  a  college,  which  has  given  to  the  country 
so  many  pul)lij  men,  should  render  some  public  tribute  to  the  memory  of 
President  Garfield.  1  accordingly  submit  the  discourse  for  publicatii)n,  thank- 
ing you  for  the  ver\   kind  terms  of  your  note  reciuesling  it. 

With  great  respect, 

\'uurs  truly, 

J  AS.  ().  .MURI.'AY. 


Isaiah  5  :  30.  "  And  if  o?ic  look  unto  the  land,  behold 
darkness  and  sor?'ou\  and  the  light  is  darkened  in 
the  heaz'ens  thereof 

There  are  two  days  in  the  calendar  of  our  Ameri- 
can history  so  darkened  by  portentous  crime,  so 
clouded  with  mighty  sorrow,  so  fateful  to  the  national 
welfare,  that  they  can  never  be  recalled  without  bitter 
pangs  and  shudders  of  dread.  One  of  them  is  that 
14th  day  of  April  1865,  when  amid  the  exulting  joys 
over  the  ultimate  triumph  of  the  national  arms,  Presi- 
dent Lincoln  fell  by  the  hands  of  a  malignant  and  cruel 
assassin.  Some  of  us  can  recall  that  woful  morninor 
after  the  terrible  deed,  when,  mute  with  horror  we  felt 
that  the  last  and  dreadfullest  vial  of  anguish  had  been 
poured  out  on  the  suffering  country. 

The  other  is  the  2d  of  July,  1881,  a  day  still  fresh 
in  all  memories  for  its  awful  shock,  when  for  the  sec- 
ond time  the  bullet  of  an  assassin  sped  its  fatal  course, 
and  President  Garfield  was  its  shining  mark  and  victim. 
But  when  Lincoln  was  assassinated,  the  country  was 
familiar  with  sorrow.  The  long  agony  of  war  had 
convulseil  countless  households.  The  mourners  over 
their  dead  fallen  on  fields  of  honor  had  gone  about  our 
streets.  Not  even  final  victory  could  efface  from  the 
hearts  of  men,  the  aching  sense  of  loss.  It  was  the  final 
and  greatest  anguish,  but  it  was  one  of  a  long  and  dark 
line  of  woes. 

How  differently  came  this  last  fearful  blow  !  The 
wounds  of  our  civil  war  were  fast  healing.  Men  of 
the   North  and  men  of  the  South  were  coming  into 


kindlier  relations,  doing  willing  homage  to  valor  which 
was  alike  the  heritage  of  the  South  and  the  North. 
Commerce  was  rising.  The  land  was  busy  in  great 
enterprises.  The  skies  were  peaceful.  The  early 
summer  w^as  arrayed  in  all  its  wonted  beauty,  when 
suddenly  like  a  shock  of  doom,  we  all  stood  face  to 
face  with  the  horror  of  a  second  assassination  of  the 
Chief  Magistrate  of  the  United  States. 

The  records  of  history  show  that  in  most  instances 
the  weapon  of  the  assassin  has  done  its  fell  work 
speedily. 

"  Even  at  the  base  of  Pompey's  statue 
Which  all  the  while  ran  blood,  o-re(7^  Cesar  fell'' 

William  the  Silent  knew  but  few  moments  of  agony 
after  the  bullets  of  Balthazar  Gerard  had  entered  his 
body.  The  second  stab  thrust  by  Francis  Ravaillac 
into  the  heart  of  Henry  IV.  of  France,  "  the  most  gal- 
lant and  loving  heart  of  Christendom,"  and  the  king 
fell  back  dead.  The  aim  of  Booth,  more  deadly  and 
more  merciful  than  that  of  his  successor,  soon  ended 
the  Hfe  of  President  Lincoln.  Dynamite  in  the  hands 
of  an  accursed  Nihilism  mangles  horribly  the  body, 
but  soon  releases  the  suffering  soul  of  Alexander, 
Czar  of  Russia.  But  we  turn  our  thoughts  to  eighty 
days  of  heroic  suffering  at  Washington  and  Long 
Branch,  to  eighty  days  of  fluctuating  hope,  when  some- 
times our  fears  belied  our  hopes  and  our  hopes  in 
turn  belied  our  fears,  day  by  day  the  sorrow  of  the 
nation  growing,  struggling  for  relief  in  prayers  to 
God  offered  on  all  altars,  till  the  anguish  on  the  heart 
of  the  whole  people  swelled  like  the  waves  of  the  sea. 
There  is  something  majestic  in  a  great  sorrow\  The 
woes  of  communities  devastated  by  fire,  or  famine,  or 


pestilence,  the  grief  of  whole  churches  when  their  pil- 
lars have  fallen,  the  strong  staff  and  the  beautiful  rod 
broken — these  appeal  to  the  deepest  emotions  of  our 
natures.  They  send  a  hush  out  upon  the  storms  of 
life.  But  I  think  it  may  be  safely  said  that  the  sorrow 
which  to-day  broods  over  the  land  is  unique  in  history. 
Not  only  for  the  numbers  that  feel  it,  though  they  are 
fifty  millions  of  people,  but  for  the  character,  the  spe- 
cial quality  of  the  grief,  is  this  sorrow  a  spectacle  of 
deep  moral  meaning  and  grandeur.  The  voice  of  our 
land  to-day  to  all  the  world  is  the  majestic  plaint  of 
Constance. 

"  I  will  instruct  my  sorrows  to  be  proud 

For  grief  is  proud  and  makes  his  owner  stoop. 
To  me,  and  to  the  state  of  my  great  grief 
Let  Kings  assemble,  for  my  grief's  so  great 
That  no  supporter  but  the  huge  firm  earth 
Can  hold  it  up  :  here  I  and  sorrows  sit. 
Here  is  my  throne,  bid  Kings  come  Ijow  to  it. 

This  then  is  the  theme  for  discourse  this  morning  : 
The  sorrow  of  a  great  nation,  so  vividly  portrayed  in  the 
prophetic  language  of  Isaiah  in  the  text,  ''  And  if  one 
look  unto  the  land,  behold  darkness  and  sorrow,  and 
the  light  is  darkened  in  the  heavens  thereof" 

Before  attempting  to  analyze  its  sources,  or  to 
point  out  its  lessons,  a  more  vivid,  a  more  adequate 
view  of  the  sorrow  itself  should  be  sought.  All  sum- 
mer long  it  has  brooded  over  us.  Scattered  in  our 
paths  for  rest  and  recreation  by  mountain  sides,  or 
shores  of  sounding  sea,  there  was  no  charm  in  nature 
to  make  us  forget  the  impending  woe.  The  first  shock 
of  despair  yielded  to  buoyant  gladdening  hope.  That 
was  soon  shaken  by  ominous  tidings.  Then  hope  re- 
vived, and  sickened  again  like  the  suffering  patient,  and 


so  the  wearino- suspense  dragged  on  the  lingering  weeks. 
Consciously  or  unconsciously  the  nation's  sorrow  has 
been  deepening  every  hour  since  the  fatal  morning. 
The  sorrow  has  reached  all  classes.  It  has  hushed 
party  strife.  It  has  touched  the  hearts  of  children  and 
they  have  come  under  its  shadows.  It  has  evoked 
from  all  religious  communions,  the  sympathy  which 
overleaps  all  creeds,  and  binds  Roman  Catholic  and 
Protestant,  Jew  and  Gentile,  in  this  bond  of  common 
grief  It  has  found  no  where  fuller,  sweeter,  nobler 
expression  from  first  to  last,  than  in  the  South,  on 
whose  fair  fields  the  dead  martyr  once  stood  fighting 
to  the  death  her  sons.  Nay,  it  has  swept  over  Christ- 
endom, over  civilized  mankind.  From  all  lands  and 
all  powers  have  come  the  messages  of  sympathy,  which 
reveal  far  more  than  official  and  decorous  routine. 
They  express  a  grief  which  is  felt.  Kings  have  bowed 
to  it.  There  is  no  great  nation  of  Christendom,  there 
is  no  high  potentate,  civil  or  ecclesiastical,  who  has  not 
conveyed  to  our  national  authorities  the  sense  of  sor- 
row. It  is,  more  truly  described,  the  sorrow  of  a  world. 
And  nothing  in  recent  history  has  so  revealed  the  fact 
that  our  human  progress  is  tending  to  knit  mankind 
more  closely  together  in  bonds  of  brotherhood.  We 
have  had  our  International  Expositions.  We  hold  our 
International  Congresses.  These  a  few  centuries  ago 
would  have  been  impossible.  To-day  it  is  a  great 
sorrow  lifted  and  borne  on  the  heart  of  a  world  which 
shows  us  how  the  world  is  slowly  but  surely  becom- 
ing one,  at  least  in  those  great  interests  which  give 
our  life  here  its  deepest  significance.  Conspicuous 
however  above  all  the  rest  has  been  the  sympathy 
of  Encjland    and   the    Oueen.     The   voice    has    been 


heard  there  from  all  classes.  Pulpit  and  Press,  Lords 
and  Commons,  Churchmen  and  Dissenters,  all  feel  the 
grief  and  haste  to  its  expression.  They  ollowed,  as 
we  did,  with  the  same  anxiety,  the  last  bulletin  from 
the  sick  room  at  Washington  or  Lone  Branch.  No 
sooner  had  the  tidings  of  the  removal  been  flashed  across 
the  sea  than  a  leading  journal  of  literature  prints  in  its 
columns  lines  like  these  : — 

'^  The  hush  of  the  sick-room  ;   the  imitllecl  tread  : 

Fond,  questioning  eye;  mute  lip,  and  listening  ear  ; 

Where  wife  and  children  watch,  'twixt  hope  and  fear, 
A  father's,  husband's,  living-dying  bed  ! — 
The  hush  of  a  great  nation,  when  its  head 

Lies  stricken  !   Lo,  along  the  streets  he's  borne, 

Pale,  thro'  rank'd  crowds,  this  gray  September  morn, 
'Mid  straining  eyes,  Sad  brows  unbonneted, 
And  reverent  speechlessness  ! — a  '  people's  voice  I  ' 

Nay,  but  a  people's  silence  !  thro'  the  soul 

Of  the  wide  world  its  subtler  echoes  roll. 

O  brother  nation  !   England,  for  her  part. 

Is  with  thee  ;  God  willing,  she  whose  heart 
Throbb'd  with  thy  pain,  shall  with  thy  joy  rejoice." 

And  then  those  messages  from  the  Queen  herself 
to  that  pale,  anxious  sister-woman,  queenly  by  no 
royal  descent  nor  sceptre,  but  queenly  in  the  dignity 
of  her  carriage  amid  the  aeonizine  sorrows  and  sus- 
pense, — those  messages  so  graceful,  so  tender  and 
gracious,  so  freighted  with  sense  of  sorrow  and  answer- 
ing sympathy.  What  is  not  that  sorrow  which  called 
them  forth!  The  messages  could  not  satisfy  the  full 
desire  of  that  royal  soul.  The  Court  is  put  in  mourning. 
On  the  bier  at  Washington,  on  the  form  so  wasted, 
once  so  proud,  there  rests  the  floral  wreath,  the  last  ex- 
pression of  a  Queen's  sorrow  for  the  nation  in  its 
mighty  grief,  quite  as  truly  as  a  tribute  to  the  virtues 
of  the  departed  ruler.     We  must  note  in    all    this  not 


10 

only  what  should  forever  endear  to  American  hearts 
Victoria  as  a  Queen,  but  also  the  greatnesf  of  our  own 
sorrow. 

Nor  can  I  pass  from  the  consideration  of  this 
topic  without  alluding  to  what  has  already  been  brought 
to  your  notice  in  this  place,  the  suffering  of  our  land  in 
many  of  its  portions.  Fierce  droughts  have  burned 
our  v<:'getation,  dried  our  springs  of  water,  kindled 
awful  conflao^rations,  making  hundreds  houseless  and 
homeless.  As  the  autumn  wears  on,  it  brings  far  more 
than  its  wonted  sadness.  That  may  after  all  be  but 
sentiment,  though  the  word  of  the  Lord  which  abideth 
forever  assures  us,  "  We  all  do  fade  as  a  leaf  and  our 
iniquities  like  the  wind  have  taken  us  away."  But 
the  autumnal  sadness  is  heavy  and  sore.  The  signs 
of  it  are  in  the  heavens  above  and  on  the  earth  beneath. 
They  are  the  accompaniments,  the  "trappings  and  the 
suits "  of  the  deeper  woe  which  saddens  all  hearts 
to-day.  They  are  the  voice  of  Providence  bidding  us 
humble  ourselves  under  the  mighty  hand  of  God. 

From  the  greatness  and  extent  of  the  sorrow  we 
turn  to  its  sources.  What  is  it  which  makes  the  mighty 
grief,  so  poignant  and  so  universal  ?  In  considering 
this,  we  touch  the  heart  of  our  sad  theme.  It  may  not 
be  overlooked  that  there  is  a  sense  of  humiliation  to 
the  nation  in  the  thought,  that  such  a  deed  should  have 
been  wrought  among  us.  Sixteen  years  only,  separate 
from  each  other  these  two  dreadful  crimes  by  which 
two  Presidents  have  been  assassinated.  The  child  is 
not  yet  grown  to  full  manhood,  who  heard  wonderingly 
of  President  Lincoln's  foul  taking  off.  Nor  can  re- 
lief be  found  in  any  theories  of  insanity  on  the  part 
of  the  assassins.     Madness  call  it,  but  the  public  mind 


Is  well  assured  that  It  was  responsible  madness.  This 
Is  In  part  the  bitterness  of  our  woe.  We  cannot  shut 
our  eyes  to  the  fact  that  the  deed  has  In  It  and  on  It 
the  same  damnable  qualities  that  will  brand  forever 
the  murderous  heart  of  Russian  Nihilism. 

Nor  acrain  Is  It  the  fact  that  the  awful  deed  was 
perpetrated  so  soon  after  the  President  had  assumed 
the  duties  of  his  hieh  office  ;  that  he  was  cut  off  on  the 
very  threshold  of  his  great  official  career.  Four  short 
months  were  all  he  knew  of  active  duty  in  his  high 
position.  Four  short  months,  and  then  all  ended  by 
the  bullet  of  an  assassin.  But  some  of  us  can  remem- 
ber how  President  Harrison  sickened  and  died  after 
only  one  short  month  of  Presidency  over  the  Republic. 
President  Taylor  held  the  office  longer,  but  he  too  was 
cut  off  by  disease  running  Its  fatal  course  with  woful 
rapidity.  These  however  died  by  disease.  The  nation 
sorrowed  over  these  heroes  and  burled  them  amid 
sincere  and  deep  lamentations.  But  to  have  two  of 
our  Presidents  slain  by  an  assassin's  hand  within  a  score 
of  years,  to  have  the  deed  repeated  so  soon,  makes 
thoughtful  men  pause  and  think.  We  had  begun  to 
associate  such  crimes  with  the  wild  lawlessness  ot  mid- 
dle ages.  We  had  begun  to  say  within  ourselves, 
such  barbarism  Is  of  the  past  ;  Christianity  has  put  It 
aside  forever.  But  human  wickedness  Is  still  rampant^ 
and  the  assassin  of  rulers  Is  still  more  than  a  possi- 
bility. He  is  a  living,  working,  dreadful  reality.  And 
what  elves  to  us  as  American  citizens  our  humiliation 
of  crrlef,  is  the  thouorht  that  we  in  our  fond  dreams  and 

o  o 

hopes  for  popular  government  Imagined,  that  in  a  land 
where  the  nation  chooses  its  own  rulers,  self-governed, 
there  could  be  no  social   nor  political  condition  out  of 


12 


which  such  crimes  could  spring.  We  dreamed  it  so. 
Alas  !  it  was  but  a  dream  !  Must  we  face  such  possi- 
bilities in  the  future?  Must  we  reckon  on  them  as 
contingencies  to  be  guarded  against?  Must  we  turn 
to  the  world  and  say  with  shame  and  confusion  of  face, 
"  It  was  once  our  glad  republican  idea  and  hope  that 
institutions  like  ours  made  such  crimes  virtual  impos- 
sibilities. But  our  idea  was  visionary,  our  hope  was 
the  baseless  fabric  of  a  vision,  vanished,  utterly 
vanished  under  the  double  assassination  of  rulers 
which  stains  our  annals."  Who  is  there  that  does  not 
feel  the  humiliation  and  bitter  anguish  of  this  thought? 
It  is  no  small  element  in  the  mighty  grief  under  which 
the  nation  is  bowed  to-day. 

But  the  nation's  sorrow  has  elements  of  the  most 
subduing  type  in  the  loss  from  public  life  of  such  a 
man.  Anything  like  a  complete  survey  of  his  career 
I  certainly  shall  not  attempt  to-day.  It  belongs  to  a 
different  occasion,  and  demands  a  longer  study.  But 
there  is  a  three-fold  aspect  in  which  that  career  may 
be  generally  and  cursorily  viewed,  which  will  disclose 
the  grounds  of  the  wide  lamentation  which  seems  only 
to  gather  volume  in  these  passing  days,  instead  of 
spending  itself  in  one  outburst  of  grief.  That  three- 
fold aspect  is  The  Preparation,  The  Achievement,  The 
Suffering, 

The  American  people  always  hold  a  man  specially 
dear  to  them,  whose  origin  is  humble.  To  this,  our 
popular  institutions  and  traditions  educate  us.  That 
some  of  our  ablest  and  worthiest  chief  magistrates 
have  sprung  from  humblest  conditions  of  life,  is  what 
our  democratic  notions  proudly  recognize.  From  such 
conditions    President    Garfield    sprang.       The    whole 


13 

story  of  his  early  life,  like  that  of  Lincoln,  is  the 
story  of  poverty,  strug-gle,  and  obscurity.  Yet  his 
ancestry  was  of  the  best  Puritan  stock.  It  is  "tol- 
erably certain  that  the  male  ancestor  of  the  Ameri- 
can Garhelds  was  one  of  that  picked  company,  '•' 
'••  ■='  '''  '■'•  which  bore  Governor  Winthrop 
to  the  shores  of  Massachusetts."  Five  orenerations 
of  that  ancestry  lie  buried  in  and  around  Water- 
town,  one  of  Boston's  finest  suburban  towns.  It  is 
however  the  fact,  that  the  early  life  in  the  forests  of 
Ohio  was  for  President  Garfield  a  school  of  hardship, 
bravely  encountered,  cheerfully  and  signally  mastered, 
on  which  our  thoughts  may  civvell  to  most  advantage 
now.  There  is  here  a  great  lesson  for  all  young  men 
struo-orlinor  for  education,  and  for  those  also  to  whom 
education  comes  as  the  easy  gift  of  opulent  or  well  to  do 
parents.  From  the  outset  an  enthusiasm  for  knowl- 
edgre  made  him  an  earnest  student.  It  all  comes  out, 
not  less  in  the  log  school  houses  of  Ohio,  than  in  his 
subsequent  career  at  the  college.  But  how  litde  of 
the  future  brilliant  career  seems  likely  to  happen,  as 
we  see  him  at  sixteen  years  of  age,  chopping  by  con- 
tract his  hundred  cords  of  wood  on  the  shores  of  Lake 
Erie,  and  pausing  in  his  toil  to  catch  glimpses  of  the 
blue  lake,  which  seemed  to  start  up  within  him  long- 
ings for  a  life  of  adventure  on  the  sea.  We  recall  by 
sad  contrast,  the  wounded,  dying  President  propped  in 
his  chair  at  Long  Branch  and  looking  wistfully  out  on 
the  waves  of  the  ocean  rollincr  evermore.  How  little 
of  the  high  station  that  awaited  him  in  after  life  seemed 
likely,  when  he  plodded  along  the  tow-path  of  a  canal 
for  three  months,  em.ployed  as  a  driver.  Yet  all  this 
early  hardship  made  him  stronger  for  severer  struggles. 


14 

An  illness  turned  all  his  thoughts  toward  education. 
And  then  ensued  that  laborious  struororle  for  it.  He 
spent  much  of  his  time,  through  the  winters,  in  teaching- 
a  district  school ;  during  summers,  he  was  in  the  hay 
field.  But  he  conqicei^ed  all  difficulties,  of  preparatory 
study  and  of  support.  He  conquered  \\\^vci,  this  is  the 
significant  part  of  the  story,  and  entered  on  his  college 
course  at  Williams.  So  far  in  life,  he  was  master  of 
himself  and  of  his  circumstances.  It  is  a  very  trenchant 
remark  of  Pres.  Hopkins  that  Gen.  Garfield  was  not  sent 
to  college,  that  he  came.  He  took  from  a  good  college 
all  a  good  college  could  give  him,  simply  because  he  was 
there  to  make  his  education  a  force  in  after  life.  ''  There 
was  no  pretense  of  genius,  or  alternation  of  spasmodic 
effort  and  of  rest,  but  a  satisfactory  accomplishment  in 
all  directions  of  what  was  undertaken."  Seeing  clearly 
from  the  very  outset,  what  a  well-trained  mind  is  in 
after-achievement ;  seeing  this  as  a  boy  in  the  district 
school  over  his  grammar  and  arithmetic;  seeing  this  at 
the  academy  over  his  Latin  and  Greek,  seeing  this  at 
the  college  in  the  broadening  field  of  mental  culture 
and  discipline,  he  has  made  a  record  for  himself  which 
is  significant  to  every  young  student  in  our  country. 
The  motive-power  in  all  this  we  may  well  believe 
was  christian  earnestness.  His  christian  life  began 
early.  The  whole  life  shows  its  power.  The  unfalter- 
ing type  of  his  christian  profession,  stands  out  clear 
and  distinct  from  the  first.  He  joined  himself,  like 
Faraday  in  London,  to  a  humble  denomination  of 
christian  believers.  It  has  no  great  name  in  eccles- 
iastical history.  It  fills  no  high  place  in  the  thoughts  of 
men.  Its  work  is  confined  to  localities.  He  has  made 
it    more    widely  known   than   ever    before.      And   we 


15 

in  this  christian  college,  should  not  fail  to-day  to  mark 
the  characteristic  quality  of  that  life  in  its  preparatory 
stages,  as  christian.  Undoubtedly  the  christian  ele- 
ment gave  moral  earnestness,  large  and  serious  pur- 
pose in  living,  a  high  and  solemn  sense  of  accountable- 
ness.  And  now,  what  is  all  our  outward  and  decorous 
garb  of  sorrow  worth,if  it  does  not  also  enwrap  a  fruitful 
and  blessed  recognition  of  this  preparation  as  having 
meaning  for  us.  By  it,  he  being  dead  yet  speaketh. 
Gathered  as  a  colleore  we  shall  be  on  the  morrow 
to  unite  in  the  religious  services  appointed  by  the 
Civic  Authorities.  Is  it  to  be  merely  the  sentiment  of 
grief,  or  is  it  to  be  something  deeper  and  better  ?  It 
will  be,  if  young  men  catch  enthusiasm  from  this 
shining  example  of  early  struggle  passed  trium- 
phantly, of  educational  advantages  valued  highly 
and  pursued  christianly.  That  preparation  amid 
such  hardship,  pursued  to  such  purpose,  issuing  in 
such  equipment  for  life,  how  it  shames,  how  it  re- 
bukes all  triflers  in  this  hieh  business  of  mental 
training;  how  It  encourages,  how  it  ennobles  all  similar 
struggles  and  strugglers  in  the  course  of  education  ! 

Of  his  life  as  an  achievement,  it  will  only  be  ex- 
pected that  I  speak  in  the  most  general  way.  So  large 
a  part  is  in  the  political  sphere,  as  to  make  any  other 
mode  of  treatment  Ill-timed.  But  in  its  broad,  general 
features,  it  may  in  any  place  however  sacred,  before 
any  audience  however  gathered  or  mixed,  be  pointed 
to  as  fulfillinor  the  law  of  all  hicrh  achievement, — noble 
aims  fulfilled  by  noble  effort,  and  reaching  a  splendid 
goal. 

His  first  year  after  graduation  was  spent  as  a 
teacher  in  the  Seminary  which  had  nurtured  him.     That 


j6 

ended,  he  was  sought  for  the  Presidency  of  the  Insti- 
tution. In  a  year  from  the  time  he  reached  this  post, 
he  was  called  to  the  Senate  of  Ohio.  Then  came  the 
civil  war,  and  with  the  first  reverse  of  the  National 
arms,  he  was  found  turning  his  back  on  his  literary 
life  for  the  field  of  war.  Beginning  as  a  Colonel,  he 
rose  by  promotion  to  the  rank  of  Major  General.  He 
was  taken  out  of  the  army  to  serve  his  State  in  the 
National  Congress.  "There  was  no  lack  of  generals 
in  the  field,  but  there  was  lack  of  men  in  Congress 
who  understood  the  affairs  of  the  army."  Thus  and 
then  began  his  great  public  career,  which  ended  in  the 
unsought  elevation  to  the  Presidency  of  the  Nation. 
Almost  the  first  thing  that  strikes  the  reader  of  his 
biography  is  the  fact,  that  he  is  conspicuous  as  one  of 
that  select  class  of  public  men  whom  positions  seek 
but  who  never  seek  positions,  as  place-hunters  in  our 
politics.  His  whole  career  from  the  position  of  teacher 
in  the  Academy  after  graduation,  to  his  nomination  for 
the  Presidency  at  Chicago  illustrates  this  principle. 
Such  a  fact  lifts  him  at  once  above,  far  above  all  the 
low  management,  all  the  wire-pulling,  all  the  machina- 
tions by  which  place  is  won  sometimes,  and  high  place 
too.  He  never  had  occasion  in  his  life  to  stoop  to  a 
trick.  He  may  not  have  been  tempted  as  some  men 
are.  But  on  this  high  vantage-ground — -sought- for  but 
not  seeking  position — he  rose  to  his  great  eminence, 
and  whether  or  no  he  reached  the  higher  ideal  of 
statesmanship,  he  never  sunk  to  the  arts  of  the  pol- 
itician. It  is  indeed  no  crime  in  a  ereat  man  to  de- 
sire  rule  over  men.  Who  thinks  meanly  of  any  one 
of  our  great  triumvirate,  Calhoun  or  Clay  or  Webster, 
that  he  had  ambition  for  the  Presidency  ?     It  was  our 


loss  that  they  were  not  in  the  office.  They  knew,  and  all 
discerning  men  knew,  they  were  fitted  for  it.  Still  it  is 
better  for  men  that  positions  seek  them,  than  that  they 
seek  positions.  For  this  is  the  great  fact  on  which  all 
young  men  may  safely  rely,  that  surely  as  the  course 
of  human  affairs  runs  on  there  will  always  be  positions 
calling  for  men.  Let  me  in  view  of  the  great  career 
ended,  in  view  of  this  great  characteristic  of  that  career, 
deeply  impress  on  my  audience  this  morning  the  im- 
portance of  being  ready  when  the  call  comes.  Only 
one  thing  makes  any  man  thus  ready,  hard,  conscien- 
tious, painstaking  endeavor.  The  call  comes.  You 
shall  hear  it.  But  it  never  tarries.  It  must  be^often 
answered  on  the  spot.  Unanswered,  it  passes  on 
and  the  man  is  left  behind  forever  in  the  race  of 
life.  Again  let  me  remind  you  that  wherever  that 
call  came  to  the  departed  President,  in  the  sphere 
of  Teacher,  Soldier,  Statesman  or  Ruler,  it  was  heard 
and  the  voice  replied,  "  Speak,  Lord,  for  thy  servant 
heareth."  Let  us  never  fail  to  do  honor  to  men  whom 
positions  seek,  who  do  not  seek  positions 

So  too  a  strong  emphasis  must  be  put  on  the  fact 
that  his  career  shows  in  him  constant  high  ideals. 
These  are  of  different  degrees,  positive,  comparative, 
superlative.  We  need  raise  no  question  in  which  cate- 
gory his  ideals  of  public  life  are  to  be  placed.  All 
candid  judgment  will  concede  to  him  the  praise  of  high 
ideals.  They  ruled  him  in  college;  they  ruled  him  in 
his  vocation  as  teacher ;  they  ruled  him  in  camp  ;  they 
ruled  him  in  congress.  They  were  evidently  to  rule 
his  administration.  To  one  at  least  of  our  great  pub- 
lic questions,  he  brought  an  amount  of  research,  a 
compass  of  severe,  patient,  discriminating,  statesman- 


i8 

like  service,  which  sufficiently  marks  this  characteristic 
as  one  to  be  emphasized.  A  writer  in  the  Nineteenth 
Century^  has  said  that  ''  The  entire  record  of  British 
legislation  on  commerce  and  currency  for  two  hundred 
years  had  been  so  studied  that  he  had  all  their  most 
important  facts  at  command."  And  when  the  public 
credit  was  threatened,  ''  the  Secretary  of  the  Treasury 
had  his  speeches  on  the  subject  printed  in  pamphlet 
form  and  sent  to  the  leading  statesmen  and  financiers 
of  Europe."  They  fell  under  the  notice  of  such  mas- 
ters of  the  subject  as  John  Bright  and  Mr.  Gladstone. 
On  their  nomination,  he  was  chosen  an  honorary  mem- 
ber of  the  celebrated  Reform  club.  So  with  all  his 
work.  The  influence  of  these  high  ideals  shape  all 
his  public  utterances.  Addressing  young  men,  his 
whole  tone  is  that  of  a  man  who  will  have  success  won 
only  by  having  and  following  such.  Nothing  is  further 
from  him  than  any  doctrhzaire  thinking.  Possibly  on 
the  great  question  of  civil  service  reform,  there  was 
not  even  enough  of  this.  But  to  succeed  on  high  levels 
of  achievement  was  his  moulding,  controlling  aim. 
And  is  it  not  certain  that  if  public  life  is  to  be  thor- 
oughly renovated  among  us — if  there  is  to  be  such  a 
thing  in  our  history  as  American  Statesmanship  worthy 
its  high  ancestry  in  the  Fathers  of  the  Republic,  and 
commanding  the  respectful  homage  of  the  world — his 
method  must  be  chosen.  It  may  be  the  death  of  pol- 
iticians. It  will  be  the  resurrection  of  statesmen — let 
us  also  hope  of  christian  statesmen. 

And  addressing  as  I  do  this  morning  an  audience 
of  young  men,  I  may  be   allowed  to  press  home  this 

♦Nineteenth  Century.    August,  1881. 


19 

consideration.  If  high  ideals  do  not  rule  men  in  the 
period  of  Preparation,  they  are  not  likely  to  do  so  in 
the  period  of  Achievement.  The  trouble  is  like  to  be 
most  with  the  men  of  one  talent.  They,  as  our  divine 
Lord  has  taught  us  in  the  parable,  are  most  like  to 
hide  in  a  napkin,  or  bury  in  the  earth  of  worthless, 
aimless  livincr,  that  one  talent  which  needs  the  hi^^h 
ideal  as  truly  as  the  two  or  the  five.  And  let  no  one 
of  you  forget  the  solemn  lesson  from  this  great  career, 
of  which  Christianity  was  the  root  and  mainspring.  The 
christian  element  here  must  be  powerful.  How  can 
it  help  being  so,  with  a  judgment  to  be  passed  when 
every  man  shall  give  account  of  himself  to  God, 
and  when  there  remains  to  every  good  and  faithful 
servant  the  promise  of  the  final  award,  "  Well  done, 
enter  into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord."  Shaped  then  by 
these  two  forces,  that  course  was  finished.  And 
because  it  was  so  shaped  there  is  such  a  grief  in 
all  truly  American  hearts  to-day.  For  we  cannot 
spare  one  such  man  from  public  life  and  not  feel 
the  loss.  But  when  he  holds  the  high  office  of 
our  chief  ruler  and  is  smitten  down,  the  whole  land 
mourns.  Among  the  last  words  of  David,  King  of 
Israel,  are  these,  most  striking  and  most  pertinent. 
*'  The  God  of  Israel  said,  the  Rock  of  Israel  spake  to 
me.  He  that  ruleth  over  men  must  be  just,  ruling  in 
the  fear  of  God.  And  he  shall  be  as  the  light  of  the 
morning  when  the  sun  riseth,  even  a  morning  without 
clouds."  Christian  statesmanship  is  the  highest  ideal 
of  statesmanship.  And  such,  all  nations  need.  The 
loss  of  one  such  anywhere  should  cause  profound  griei. 
We  should  be  recreant  to  all  our  noble  christian  tra- 
ditions if  the  national  sorrow  were  less  general,  or  less 
deep. 


20 


Preparation  and  Achievement  ended  and  trans- 
figured by  suffering,  so  our  survey  of  the  career  must 
come  to  its  close. 

So  indeed  it  has  been  given  to  some  of  the  noblest 
human  spirits  to  pass  off  the  mortal  stage.  The  active 
ministry  of  the  great  apostle  terminates  in  a  passive 
ministr}',  bonds,  imprisonment,  shipwreck,  death  at  last 
by  the  headsman's  axe,  under  a  Nero.  So  the  bright 
memorable  service  of  William  the  Silent  ends  by  the 
shot  of  an  assassin.  So  the  dagger  of  Ravaillac  spills 
the  blood  of  Henry  IV.  of  France.  Death  which  ends 
all  careers,  is  seldom  more  than  a  close,  a  winding  up 
of  the  whole.  But  in  the  ending  of  that  career  over 
which  a  nation  is  bowed  in  grief  to-day,  it  is  death  pre- 
ceded by  months  of  suffering  which  sheds  a  strange 
transfiguration  over  the  whole.  It  adds  nothing  to  the 
Achievement.  That  was  a  finished  chapter  when  the 
pistol  shot  rang  through  the  city  of  Washington  on  the 
fatal  morning.  But  there  were  days  and  weeks  and 
months  in  which  the  calmness  of  christian  fortitude,  the 
brave  determination  to  struggle  for  life,  the  patience,  the 
cheerfulness,  the  hopefulness — all  maintained  to  the 
last  hour — shed  a  serene  and  holv  licrht  on  the  most 
pathetic  scene  in  our  national  history.  The  heart  of 
the  nation  was  there  throuorh  it  all — North  and  South 
and  East  and  West,  watching,  hoping,  praying.  It  was 
there  in  sympathy  with  the  noble  wife,  now  widowed 
of  her  noble  husband,  and  at  times  almost  forgetting 
its  anxieties  and  suspense  in  admiration  of  her  bravery 
and  cheerful  hopefulness — bringing  as  she  did  to  the 
awful  exigency  all  the  ministrations  of  finest,  complet- 
est  womanhood.  It  went  out  from  there  to  that  dis- 
tant home  in  Ohio  where  the  gray-haired   mother  of 


21 

the  stricken  President,  to  whom  in  all  stages  of  his 
career  he  had  ever  shown  a  fihal  love  and  veneration 
as  beautiful  as  they  are  impressive,  sat  waiting  not  for 
her  own  departure,  but  in  anxious  care  lest  she  should 
outlive  the  son  whom  she  had  so  nobly  trained,  and 
whom  she  follows  now  to  the  grave.  There  is  no 
element  of  pathos  wanting.  Tragedy  pales  before  this 
scene  of  struggle,  suffering,  and  at  last  death.  But  it 
all  throws  a  light,  softened  and  pure  and  holy,  around 
the  whole  career.  We  see  him  now — not  through  the 
record  of  a  wise  and  pure  and  good  administration  of 
his  office,  not  through  the  eloquence  of  his  oratory,  not 
through  the  statesmanship  of  his  Congressional  course, 
not  through  the  brilliant  record  of  his  military  career, 
not  through  early  hardships  and  heroic  struggle  for  a 
thorough  mental  furnishing.  We  see  him,  we  see  it 
all,  through  the  unbounded  pathos  of  the  sick  room  at 
Washington  and  Long  Branch,  and  in  all  the  sorrow 
of  the  nation  in  which  we  all  have  our  part,  are  yet 
moved  to  say  for  Iiwi — 

"  Nothing  is  liere   for  tears,  nothing  to  wail 
Or  knock  tlie  breast  ;   no  weakness,  no  contempt. 
Dispraise  or  blame;  nothing  but  well  and  fair, 
And  what  may  cjuiet   us  in  a  death  so  noble.'' 

Are  there  now  no  lessons  for  us  to  heed  in  this 
heavy  hour?  Whose  heart  would  not  tremble  as  he 
seeks  to  point  them  ?  I  cannot  attempt  to  read  them 
all  as  they  are  written  for  us  by  God's  solemn  provi- 
dence. I  shrink  even  from  entering  at  all  on  this  high 
office.  '' God  is  his  own  interpreter."  But  there  are 
one  or  two  which  in  broken  fashion  I  must  essay.  On 
these  I  cannot  be  silent. 


First  of  all  we  must  be  careful  that  no  guilty  un- 
belief as  to  a  true  doctrine  of  prayer  assail  and  seize 
the  national  heart.  If  profane  and  ungodly  lips  say 
to  the  christian  world,  "  You  have  now  fairly  tested 
the  power  of  prayer  and  it  failed  in  the  awful  exi- 
gency ;  "  if  from  this  there  spring  the  atheistic  notion 
that  there  is  no  Divine  Ruler  over  nations,  no  Provi- 
dential eye  watching  our  national  welfare,  no  Provi- 
dential hand  shaping  its  course,  we  are  in  such  peril 
as  a  nation,  as  never  before  frowned  on  us.  Nay,  if 
we  think  that  prayer  to  God  for  national  blessings  is 
not  still  our  highest  duty  and  most  exalted  privilege, 
we  are  in  jeopardy  every  hour  of  divine  judgments 
which  will  make  men  stand  aghast.  All  we  have  to 
do  is  to  recall  that  prayer  in  Gethsemane,  "  Father,  if 
it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me  ;  nevertheless, 
not  my  will  but  thine  be  done."  That  cup  did  not 
pass.  Ours  did  not.  If  we  prayed  aright,  we  prayed 
submissively  to  God's  holy  will,  and  trusting  all  to  His 
Wisdom  and  His  Love.  He  has  not  foro^otten  those 
prayers.  If  we  hold  fast  the  profession  of  our  faith, 
without  wavering,  a  childlike,  devout  faith  may  an- 
ticipate unnumbered  blessings  in  years  to  come.  We 
prayed  in  our  ignorance  of  a  mortal  wound.  We 
should  have  been  false  to  our  duties  if  we  had  not 
prayed.  Nay,  we  should  with  unfaltering  lips  cry  to 
God  for  blessings  on  him  who  succeeds  in  the  hieh 
office,  who  has  borne  himself  so  nobly  through  the 
late  crisis,  and  who  so  feelingly  has  set  apart  the  mor- 
row^ to  the  offices  of  religion. 

But  the  closing  word  which  must  have  utterance 
is  this.  By  solemn  and  terrible  judgment  we  as  a 
nation  are  warned  against  the  evil  which  had  been  for 


23 

years  gathering  head,  corrupting  the  sources  of  poHti- 
cal  Hfe  and  entrenching  itself  in  the  basest  passions  of 
men.  Let  me  here  disclaim  any  attempt  to  estimate 
the  degree  of  connection  between  the  spoils  system 
and  the  awful  deed  which  has  clothed  the  nation  in 
woe.  More  remote  or  less  remote — the  offspring  of 
frenzy  or  revenge,  with  determining  all  this  the 
pulpit  has  nothing  to  do.  But  the  connection 
is  too  plain  to  be  mistaken.  It  exists ;  and  all 
educated  men  are  bound  to  throw  aside  their  par- 
tisanship— to  look  at  the  one  great  duty — the  puri- 
fication of  our  politics,  the  redemption  of  our  republi- 
can system  from  a  threatening  evil  against  which  dis- 
cernino;  men  have  lono^  been  warning  us,  and  which 
must  now  with  all  ri^ht-thinkine  rnen  come  to  an  end. 

''  All   is  best,  though  we  oft  doubt 
What  th'  unsearchable  dispose 
Of  highest  wisdom  brings  about 
And  ever  best  found  in  its  close. 
Oft  he  seems  to  hide  his  face, 
But  unexpectedly  returns, 
And  to  his  faithful  champion  hath  in  place 
Bore  witness  gloriously.         *         * 


His  servants  he,  with  new  acquist 
Of  true  experience  from  this  [dread]  event 
\Vith  peace  and  consolation  hath  dismisse<l, 
^\nd  calm  of  mind,  all  passion  spent.'' 


*'->^'      -yW 


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